


Now What

by Jean_C_Pepper



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jean_C_Pepper/pseuds/Jean_C_Pepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story from the Joker POV. The Joker gets sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now What

I can't believe it. I am caught like a spider in a web. I got hoisted on my own petard, so to speak. I am done for.

 

It all started when I began a sexual relationship with Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne is also Batman and he certainly retains aspects of the Big Bad Bat during sex. It was perfect. I knew that he was kicking himself mentally before and after our meetings. I knew that he hated me and I reveled in that hatred. I liked it that he hated me and couldn't help himself. I loved that I was his addiction, his secret vice.

 

So, things were going along swimmingly until I got sick. I got sick. It wasn't like my no-good henchmen were loyal or willing to help me or anything. I felt awful, my head was fuzzy and I was so hot and then so cold.

 

Bruce and I would meet in an apartment in a housing project in the Narrows. The Thomas Wayne Foundation was building a new low cost housing project currently so the structure was partially occupied. Bruce took an empty apartment and that's where we met. He had fixed it up nicely inside and the residents kept to themselves, so no one noticed our comings and goings. I decided to go to our meeting place; at least I could sleep there unmolested.

 

I made it to the apartment, took off my clothes and crawled under the covers. And then everything became real distorted. I was feverish and it was night, and then it was morning. I could make it to the bathroom to relieve myself, but I could barely make it back. I lost track of time and I really don't know how long I was in the apartment alone.

 

The next thing I remember was Bruce was there. He was holding something to my lips, telling me to swallow. "Here, just drink it. It will make you feel better," he told me. I did as he asked and fell into an exhausted sleep.

 

When I woke up again, Bruce was still there. He was sitting next to me on the bed with his laptop. I thought he was being a pretentious rich boy when he bought a king-sized bed, but there was more than enough room. He had papers and things spread all around him as he typed intently.

 

"Brucey," I croaked, my voice a harsh rasp.

 

"Oh, you're awake," he said. He piled up his papers neatly and shut his laptop. He left the room for a minute and came back with a steaming mug. "Here." He held the cup to my lips. It was soup. It was hot but not too hot and I drank it down completely.

 

"Bathroom," I rasped.

 

"Good idea," he agreed. "You completely reek." He helped me into the bathroom and held me up while I relieved myself. Then, he helped me into the shower and turned on the water. I was so weak that I could barely stand. I leaned heavily against the shower wall, but then the curtains rustled as Bruce got into the tub with me. He soaped me up from head to toe, twice, and then held out a toothbrush so that I could brush my teeth. I looked at my hands and noticed that he had trimmed my nails, too.

 

Bruce held me under the shower head to rinse off the second time and I had to admit it felt good to be clean.

 

What happened next took me completely by surprise. Bruce Wayne cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. The kiss went on and on as his tongue completely explored my mouth. I was still leaning against the wall and I would have fallen, but his strong arms held me up. I realized with a shock that this was the first time we had kissed. We had been having sex for months, but we never kissed. I hadn't wanted to. A kiss was too intimate, revealed too much of us. The trouble was that even in my weakened state, I was very aroused by his kiss, by his proximity.

 

Bruce shut off the water and dragged me out of the tub, drying me off with thick towels that he had bought for the apartment. He disappeared for a moment and then returned, wearing a thick, turquoise-blue terrycloth bathrobe. He bundled me into an identical bathrobe, only mine was purple. Before I had time to process that he had bought me a purple bathrobe, he took me back into the bedroom and tucked me into bed, returning with another cup of the bitter tasting medicine. I was still painfully aroused when I finished the medicine and I wanted him to do something about it.

 

"Brucey," I whispered. I reached down and untied the robe. "I want you."

 

"You're sick. You need to rest," he protested.

 

"I want you," I repeated. I reached down and began to fondle myself.

 

He sighed, untied his robe and got in bed with me. I was getting cold from having my robe open, but Bruce climbed on top of me and pulled the covers up over him so that I wouldn't be cold. He then resumed kissing me like he did in the shower. He kissed me for a long time and by the time we broke for breath, I could feel the medicine kick in and I grew lethargic. There is no chance of me going to sleep, though, not when he was doing such delightful things to my nipples before moving even further south. He took me into his mouth and I felt his other hand parting my cheeks and nudging my entrance. I have no idea where he got lube, but the finger that breached me was oiled, as was the one that joined it. He added a third finger and I writhed in pleasure, even as the temperature under the covers rose with my fever.

 

"Please," I begged, and then I'm ashamed that I'm begging.

 

He surfaced from under the covers and claimed my mouth again as I felt his thick cock nudge my opening. I took a deep breath and he entered me and I don't feel any pain because he prepared me so well. He refused to relinquish my lips; one hand cupped my scarred cheek while the other hand reached between us to grab my weeping cock. He jerked me off in time with his thrusts, but it wasn't enough. I wrapped my legs around his waist, shifted position, and then he hits that spot, and I moaned and so did he and it's all too much -

 

I groaned again as my cock discharged in his hand. My body tightened around him and he gave one last sigh before I felt his release, too. Our eyes met, and I was taken aback because it wasn't hatred or disdain I saw there but caring, tenderness, and it's not supposed to be like this. He's supposed to hate me.

 

Sex proved too much for my exhausted body. My eyes drifted shut against my will. I felt him get up and sometime later, I felt a sponge gently washing me, but I couldn't open my eyes.

 

I woke much later, feeling somewhat better but still tired. Again, Bruce sat in bed next to me with his laptop, but I could see his Batman amour in the corner, which meant he'd been patrolling. I looked out the window and judged that it was very late at night.

 

This time, I made it to the bathroom on my own. I relieved myself and then looked down in surprise. I was wearing purple, yellow and green pajamas. I glanced in the mirror and noticed that my cheeks looked a bit thinner. "How long have I been here?" I asked when I got back to the bedroom.

 

"I found you three days ago. I don't know how long you had been here before that, but it couldn't have been too long. We met five days ago, remember?"

 

I looked at him again and there was the same love and caring I'd seen after we had sex. It frightened me and I looked away.

 

"Are you hungry? Do you want some more soup?" he asked. I nodded, and he brought me a huge mug of the same broth he'd given me before. I drank all of it down and handed him the cup. He got a bottle of water and instructed me to drink that, too. As I did, he checked the clock. "I don't think I can give you any more medicine just yet. Would you like to bathe again?"

 

I nodded again and he led me into the lavatory. This time, he ran a bath. We both got in, my back to his front. The tub was really too small for the two of us, but he bent his long legs, wrapped his arms around me and held me gently as we soaked. I was afraid to look at him because I didn't want to see what was in his eyes. He's not supposed to care for me! He's not supposed to feel tenderness towards me! He's supposed to hate me. I'm supposed to be his secret vice.

 

Bruce touched me gently, first my nipples, and then his hand wrapped around my cock and he began to jerk me off languidly. With his foot, he released the plug and the water began to leave the tub. He helped me to my feet before he turned on the shower and washed me from head to toe again. Afterwards, he leaned me against the wall and kissed me like before. This time, I was stronger and I surprised at how vehemently I kissed him back. I may have been scared to death at the idea of Bruce Wayne not hating me, but my body certainly wasn't!

 

Bruce turned off the shower and wrapped me in a towel and the bright purple bathrobe. This time, I didn't have to ask him to finish what he started in the bath. He dropped his robe, removed mine, and climbed into bed with me. I opened my legs like a randy whore, allowing Bruce to prepare and enter me rapidly.

 

It was even better than before because now I didn't feel drugged. I reached between us and jerked myself off while Bruce buried one hand in my hair and the other cupped my cheek again. We gasped and groaned, and when Bruce pulled my hair and gently bit my neck I lost it and spilled over my hand.

 

Bruce lasted longer this time. He continued thrusting into me until he came with a shout. Finished, he wound his arms around me and we both drifted off to sleep without even cleaning off.

 

When I woke up again, he was gone. There was a note on the pillow next to me.

 

Joker -

Gone to take care of some things. Back later.

Bruce

 

It's not the fact that he left a note that scared me. It's that he knew I'd be wondering where he was. The fact that I would care where he was - the fact that he would care for my feelings - frightened me so much. I just lay there, shaking.

 

Now what the fuck am I going to do?


End file.
